Fear didstrange things to time. And time was a strange thing when fear didn’t manifest itself the way you might have expected it to. Dylan sat on the floor of the consultation room, his back to the corner, his hands on his knees, following the instructions of his apparent hostage taker to theletter.
“Does this phone come off the table?” the man askedgruffly.
“Depends what you want to use it for.” Dylan pictured his own phone lying useless in the next room. “Do you think you could put your knifeaway?”
“Nope. I’m not doing anything you say until you ring those bastards up and tell them to pay my missus hermoney.”
“Whatmoney?”
“Her family allowance, innit? Six months she’s been without it and you cunts have done nothing aboutit.”
Dylan eyed the grubby machete that was still on the desk within the man’s easy reach. “Family allowance doesn’t exist anymore. Do you mean child benefit? Or tax credits,maybe?”
“I don’t bloody know what it’s called, do I? All I know is we got a bunch of letters telling us we’d had too much money, then they stopped putting our money in the bank. Six times my missus has been down here and you cunts done nothing. Now the council want to take our house. Where the fuck are my kids gonnalive?”
The man spoke lowly, but the flat tone in his voice frightened Dylan more than if he’d been shouting and throwing things around. This man wasn’t hysterical?—he had a plan... a plan that involved Dylan and a machete. “What do you want me todo?”
“Phone themup.”
“Who? I can’t resolve your situation if I don’t know who you’re dealingwith.”
Anger flashed in the man’s eyes. He banged his fist on the table, making the machete jump and slide closer to him. “Just callthem!”
He threw the phone to Dylan and then stood?—grabbing the machete?—and moving across the room to stand over Dylan. “I’ve got the number right here, so don’t try any funnybusiness.”
A scrap of paper drifted down towards Dylan as the door to the room opened. Tony stared in like a rabbit caught inheadlights.
“Fuck off!” the manroared.
“Um...” Tony stuttered. “Dylan has a phone call in the next room. Could he step out for aminute?”
“No. He’s staying here until he’s sorted this mess. Don’t open that door again or I’m gonna hurt someone, Iswear.”
Clearly lacking any better ideas, Tony disappeared, the door closing with a quiet click. Dylan eyed it and wondered if he was fast enough to scramble through the man’s legs and make a run for it, but a steel-capped boot connected with his shin before he could weigh itup.
“Dial,” the mangrowled.
Footsteps in the corridor spurred Dylan into action. He grabbed the piece of paper the man had tossed down to him and studied the number, recognising it immediately as the tax credits call centre. “If I call this number, we’ll be on hold for ages. There’s another one I can use that’s just for Citizens Advice centres and goes straightthrough.”
“You think I’mstupid?”
“No.” Dylan swallowed the fear bubbling up from his gut. “I think you’re in a hurry, and the quickest way I can help you is by calling a direct number. It’s on a clipboard in that drawer over there if you want to check ityourself.”
More footsteps and voices sounded from the corridor. Fabric brushed against the door and Dylan pictured Helen frantically trying to see through the tiny glass panel.Don’t open the door, woman. Dear God, don’t open thedoor.
The door remained closed. Dylan held eye contact with the man and nodded again at the desk drawer. “The number is inthere.”
Keeping the machete trained on Dylan, the man backed up to the desk and opened the drawer. The clipboard with the telephone directory on it was right there, and he threw it at Dylan’s feet. “Don’t fuck about, mate. I’m not in themood.”
Dylan inhaled a shaky breath and took the phone off the hook. “I’m going to need your name and national insurance number?—your wife’s too, if the claim is in hername.”
“What?”
“I need your information. I can’t negotiate a claim if I don’t know who it’sfor.”
“Are you taking thepiss?”
“No.” Dylan put the phone back in its cradle. “You’ve given me the number for a tax credits call centre. Who’s on the claim? You and your wife? Justher?”
